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Aleksey suggested they just meet at their old house, still hers, but not being currently occupied.
She countered that would be too complicated, compromising, given telephoto lenses. He said she was welcome to come to their house, that he’d let Ben go on a play date, and they could talk like civilised people over wine and a log fire. That was worse, apparently. She had permanent protection. And although she could ditch some of them, one or two would have to accompany her.
In the end, they agreed to meet at Barton Combe church. She had a legitimate reason to be there, should she be spotted, as her parents were buried in the churchyard.
Aleksey was already there when she pulled up, driving herself in an old Land Rover. He was sitting in the church porch, reading the notices. He levered to his feet when she opened the gate. They stared at each other for a moment, not having actually met face to face since before the debacle of the previous winter. He said dryly, ‘You scrub up well.’
She took the compliment in the spirit it was intended and replied, ‘Are you lopsided?’
Aleksey straightened. To be fair he’d been leaning on the wall, so assumed she hadn’t been referring to bits he might be missing. She walked up the path and patted his arm as she passed him to enter the gloom and cool of the church. She had apparently left her protection officers enjoying lunch at the house, and had slipped out unaccompanied. ‘You are looking better than I expected. From your texts over the last few months I’d assumed you’d be using a walking frame. Wheelchair? For God’s sake don’t show yourself to my new lord and master, will you: I’ve been cheering him up aboutmummy’s conditionby telling him you were at death’s door. Although for the life of me I don’t know why he dotes on her so; she can’t seem to stand the sight of him. Shall we sit? I don’t have long. I told them I was walking in the grounds.’
They sat down together in the last pew and regarded the interior for a while, Aleksey waiting for her to speak, she, apparently, trying to marshal her thoughts. ‘We’ve got a bit of a problem.’
He made no response. He was a good listener.
‘Not beloved directly—his younger brother actually.TheSpare.’ The silence apparently encouraged her to continue. ‘The little fool’s in a spot of bother. It’s all very tedious, but it could be quite an issue for everyone if it comes out.’
Aleksey was about to point out that he didn’t kill people any more, when he realised that given the right motivation he probably would, so kept his mouth shut.
‘We’re going to pay to make it all go away, but this settlement has to come from his estate, not ours, or, God forbid,mummy’s, or it would make the whole bunch of us look as guilty as those proverbial puppies and their poo. So, beloved’s decided: baby brother needs to raise the funds himself.’
Aleksey really didn’t like the way this non-conversation was going. He might kill someone for her (he had not forgotten he owed her one relative), but he sure as hell wasn’t going to give her any more of his money.
‘Obviously, he has no actual income to speak of, so he needs to sell some assets, but that’s fraught with difficulty. We can’t put anything on the open market or the bloody press will get wind of it, dig into why he needs the readies, and that will be the end of that. So…’
Aleksey folded one leg over the other and dusted a speck off his coat. He wondered if she remembered the cashmere overcoat she’d bought him once, and the smell of singed wool. He sincerely hoped cashmere didn’t have some kind of weird sexual Pavlovian effect on her. It was a long time since he’d worn this suit. He was very pleased to discover he could still fit into it.
‘Nikki! Stop thinking and listen. It suddenly occurred to me. That utterly ridiculous conversation we had the other day. What you said. You see…he owns an island.’
Aleksey’s eyes widened fractionally. It was infuriating, so he schooled his expression to neutral disinterest once more.
‘We think that’s what he needs to sell. He never goes there. Really not his thing. It would raise all he needs for this pay-off with just that one sale. Rather than lots of little ones, you know, various properties and the like that would attract attention. We can do a private sale, and no one is any the wiser. Myhusbandclaims he has someone in mind who would buy it, someone he knows from God knows where, but I met him once and thought he was the most despicable little new-money European you could imagine. Just the last sort of person he should be seen hanging around with. Well, other than that one who used to wear the gold tracksuits. Possibly they all knew each other… Anyway, I’ve toldbelovedthat he can forget that idea and to leave it up to me.’ She accepted the cigarette he offered her. He rather liked the way she put a certain sarcastic emphasis onhusbandandbeloved. What ex-husband wouldn’t?
She took a drag, seemingly unconcerned to be smoking in a church and continued, ‘Personally, I’d let The Spare sink neck deep in his own poop, were it up to me, but it isn’t. He’smummy’sfavourite. What an awful little bully he was when he was in the nursery. Hasn’t changed one whit. So, what do you say?’
‘Run it all past me again in English?’
‘Nikolas!’
‘Where is it?’ His list of places hedidn’twant it to be was now fairly extensive.
‘Oh, right down at the tip of Cornwall, one of the Scillies. We own all the others, of course, in the duchy. All but that one...Heruncle gave it to The Spare as a christening gift, I seem to recall. It’s calledLa Luz.’
She’d had him attip of Cornwall…
* * *
Chapter Fifteen
La Luz meant light in Spanish. Or lamp. Aleksey spoke Spanish, but not as well as he pretended to—like most of his languages, he reflected wryly, as he made the return trip to the house.
La Luz. She’d only known the vaguest details about it, but, yes, it was habitable, yes, there was a house of sorts, possibly—and, given the name, a lighthouse, she wasn’t sure—and some other rather boring things for staff.
He slapped the steering wheel with glee.
He had just agreed to buy a sub-tropical island only a few hours away, with a house already on it and, apparently, a lighthouse, and possibly something else,andhe’d been able to flaunt his wealth toBelovedonce more. Her ex trumpedHisdespicable oik friend.
It had been a spectacularly good day so far.
